As Long As The Sky's Above Us I'll Never Leave You
by HollyLoves
Summary: "NO!" the word ripped its way out of Robin's throat, hoarse and defining. Forgetting the coarse ropes binding him to his chair, he couldn't think about anything but her. About the sickening sight of her crumpled and broken, slumped against the ropes binding her torso to the cold metal chair. "Zatanna..." the strangled cry came out, nothing but a whisper.


"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," a shrill voice cut through the fog in Robin's head. He struggled to lift his eyelids; each felt like they were made of stone. His head was pounding and there was something scratching at the back of his semi-conscious brain; something he needed to remember. Finally managing to pry his eyelids open, harsh lights danced across his field of vision a moment before a discolored face swam into view, "Good morning sunshine the world says hello!" Joker. The blurry image became clear—it was him; there was no mistaking it. Robin surged forward, his senses still clouded by what he guessed was a concussion, but his force was all too soon met by resistance. A cold laugh filled the air. He was bound to a chair and he could already feel the rope burn settling in on the soft, exposed skin around his wrists and ankles. That's when it hit him, that skin shouldn't be bare: his gauntlets were gone. Robin, his head now painfully clear, did a quick inventory on his body: the concussion theory was confirmed, maybe even worse considering the dampness he sensed on the back of his head. It was either blood or sweat—he was hoping the latter. Along with his gloves, his boots, cape and belt were missing but thankfully his mask was still in place. "Looking for these?" The Joker laughed again, holding up the missing items. "I couldn't have you flying the coup now, could I? Especially when our leading lady is all ready to go..." The clown turned and gestured with his hands behind himself, directly in front of Robin.  
"NO!" the word ripped its way out of Robin's throat, hoarse and defining. Forgetting the coarse ropes binding him to his chair, forgetting about the first rule of torture Batman taught him.  
"Never let them see your pain," Bruce had said, "If they know it hurts, they'll keep going. They will try and break you. It will be hard. I won't lie, it will hurt. You will want to break down, but you need to find that one thing, Dick. That one thing that pushes you forward; that one thing you think about—and when the situation seems desperate, the thing that makes you keep going." Even with Bruce's words reverberating throughout his skull, Robin couldn't think about that now. He couldn't think about anything but her, about the sickening sight of her crumpled and broken, slumped against the ropes binding her torso to the cold metal chair. "Zatanna..." the strangled cry came out, nothing but a whisper. "We had some fun while you were asleep, didn't we sweetheart?" Zatanna doesn't offer a reply, and for a second Robin wonders why she hadn't just uttered a spell that sent them anywhere but the warehouse [a]they had found themselves in. His answer came when Zatanna lifted her head, and Robin had to resist the urge to gasp: her face was almost unrecognizable. The right side of her face was inflamed and covered in bright purple bruises from chin to hairline, her eye had swollen shut, and a long cut started at her left eyebrow and ended at the silver piece of tape keeping her mouth shut and her powers all but extinguished. "HAHAHAHAHA," the laugh echoed throughout the poorly lit warehouse[b]. It was a laugh that Dick had heard many times before; a laugh that, up until this point, hadn't really truly made his insides squirm and hadn't really truly scared—no, terrified him. "Now don't be too upset at me, but I just couldn't wait to start the party. And you were taking an awfully long nap, weren't you birdboy?" The Joker's voice rang out in the empty room. Robin gritted his teeth, clenching his fists behind his back. He had never hated anyone as much as he did in that moment; not even Tony Zucco, the man who killed his parents. But Joker…Joker wasn't really human; he was a monster masquerading as a person. "I asked you a question," Joker moved forward, invading Robin's personal space, his discolored lips so close Robin could feel them move against his ear. "It's impolite to ignore your elders." Then, louder, as he raised a crowbar Robin just noticed he was holding, "Didn't Bats teach you any manners?" Robin tried his best not to flinch, to stay strong as he looked up and saw the crowbar silhouetted against the harsh lights. He couldn't help but cringe, to try and disappear into his chair, to avoid the unavoidable. Stealing his breath, the crowbar made contact with his lower abdomen, landing a hit on one of his ribs, a loud crack resounding throughout the warehouse. Hissing in the air, trying not to scream out in pain, Robin looked up to find Zatanna's uninjured eye wide on the brink of tears, her brow furrowed in fear and pain as she strained against the ropes binding her to the chair and the duct tape covering her mouth. Muffled cries filled his ears, distracting him from the pain. Joker turned away from Robin without an answer and back to Zatanna. "What? You have something to say? HAHAHAHAHA!" With his disgusting, pale white hand, the Joker reached out and cupped Zatanna's face. The small whimper that managed to penetrate the tape wasn't missed by Robin. "Look! A magician and a clown," with his free hand, he gestured to the warehouse. "We've got ourselves a real circus in here!" If only Joker knew how right he was. "Wanna see a magic trick?" A chill ran down Robin's spine and he froze. Peering past the Joker's thin frame, he spied Zatanna, terror thinly veiled by—from the looks of Zatanna's face—her last attempt at a brave mask. A low sinister chuckle made its way out of the Joker's mouth and followed him as he walked across the warehouse floor, beyond the circle of light cascading down around them, into the darkness. Robin could just barely make out the form of a table. Schik, schik. Metal against metal filled the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of the sharpening of a knife.[c] Looking back to Zatanna, Robin could see the tears forming in her light blue eyes. "I'm going to get you out of here, I promise," he vowed as the Joker materialized behind him. "I wouldn't count on that Boy Wonder," Joker sneered, but the only thing Robin could focus on was the knife glistening as the fluorescent light danced across the blade. "Pay attention kiddies, this is going to be real educational." The laugh now seared into Robin's eardrums left the clown's mouth just as he reached Zatanna, standing behind her and letting the blade trail down her cheek before coming to a stop at her throat. Her eyes grew wide, panic-filled, but Robin could see the muscles in her cheeks move, pulling her mouth into a firmly set thin line behind the tape. That's my girl, Robin thought, and for a second he was very stupid: he allowed himself to hope. To hope that they would get out, that one day this would all be nothing more than a bad dream. Gently Joker pressed the knife down, allowing a few beads of scarlet to pool around the blade before pulling it away. "Now, now my dear you mustn't be greedy." Zatanna visibly relaxed, slumping against her restraints as the Joker started walking slowly in a circle around his captives. "You had me all to yourself; Boy Blunder here hasn't gotten any attention at all..." The clown stopped to Robin's right, but by then his brain was back online and working at full speed to find a way out. As Joker moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view of Zatanna, Robin was already shimmying the small blade he kept hidden in the sleeve of his costume into the palm of his hand. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this," the clown flicked his wrist in the air as if the blade was a paintbrush, and he was painting some obscure masterpiece, "Sure, most of the time when I pictured one of Gotham's resident vigilantes at my mercy it was Batman, not his bratty sidekick and his dumpy magician girlfriend. But!" Joker moved in, closer, his knife pressing under Robin's chin, "The show must go on." Robin wasn't at all surprised by the laugh that followed, but the cool metal of the razor in his hand slowly but surely cutting away at the ropes binding him provided comfort-hope even. Clenching the muscles in his jaw he prepared himself for the sting of the blade as it traced its way up his jaw line, coming to rest on his cheek, just under his mask. The Joker looked up from his knife, seeming to know exactly where Robin's eyes were, even though they were hidden behind the-as Robin now realized- very, very, thin strip of fabric and one way lenses. "Maybe we should see who you are on the outside, before we see your insides," another whimper from a now far too alert Zatanna, and fractionally, Robin could feel his restraints loosening. There was a small sting as Joker dug the blade tip under the mask, slicing into Robin's cheek, then it stopped and the knife was pulled away. "No, no," the clown murmured, "That would be too easy." Just as a breath of relief started to blossom in Robin's chest it was stopped by the sharp pain radiating from his thigh. Biting down on his tongue until he tasted blood. Robin refrained from screaming out loud. He looked down and saw the knife, hilt deep in his thigh. The hot, throbbing, pain spread throughout his body like liquid fire. Robin grunted as he spat the blood pooling in his mouth onto the pale gray cement floor. Breathing in through his nose and out his mouth he barely had time to register when the Joker grasped the handle of the blade and twisted. A groan worked its way out of Robin's throat at the same time the clown laughed. He moved the blade around, working the wound open, exposing it to the dusty air. "Now we're having fun!" Joker shouted thrusting the knife into Robin's tender flesh once more before straightening out his back and standing at full height. "What else shall we carve out of this bird? Or maybe we should tenderize the meat some more?" Joker vanished into the darkness again, Robin's broken rib and bleeding leg seemed to pound in sync with his heart. Pain filled his body as he tried to suppress it-push it down, someplace where he couldn't feel it. CRACK. Blood was pouring from his nose like someone had turned the switch on a faucet. A hurt whimper made its way out of his mouth before he could control himself. He spat again trying to breath through his mouth. "There that's the spirit!" A twisted smile found its way to the clown's face as he swung the crowbar-now covered in Robin's blood- through the empty air. His whole face was on fire, alive with pain, and there was so much blood. More stifled cries came from Zatanna as she watched unable to do anything to save Robin, to save herself. The Joker, done warming up swung again-this time, making contact with Robin's ribcage. He sputtered, trying to breath through the blood in his mouth. Thick syrup-like, it coated his throat as he tried to swallow. Blood from his nose dripped down his chin, he tried to move his head to shake off the blood, but agony throbbed throughout his skull and he was forced to stay still. Another jagged cut of the ropes binding him and Robin was almost free, he was going to get out, he was going to save Zatanna, and everything was going to be ok. The clown raised the crowbar high above his head, and brought it down, sailing through the air so fast a high-pitched whistling noise joined the pounding and blood rushing in Robin's ears. Robin bit down on his lip again, tearing through the already shredded and bleeding skin as the metal bar made contact with his knee cap. Hissing in a breath and sputtering as his lungs struggled to draw in air. "I'm going to break every bone in your body, then skin you alive." Came the clown's voice, his usual high pitched banter gone. Robin didn't doubt one word, and knew that the Joker would follow through on his promise...if he got the chance. With one final jerk of his hand Robin cut through the thick ropes, freeing his arm. Even though his upper body screamed in protest, Robin reached out, stopping the crowbar before Joker could strike him again. The clown gave Robin a look one often gives a small child who has managed to escape their playpen. A look, not of fear or anger, but of slight annoyance at having to put the toddler back in its rightful place. Robin struggled to grasp the crowbar, to pull it away from the Joker. Adrenalin pumping, hope rising as the clown released the bat into Robin's grasp. With determined eyes and a set jaw Robin swung the crowbar towards Joker's head. The Joker's head flung back, as he cradled his jaw in his palm and the eerie laughter once again filled the air. Robin could almost feel it, settling in all around him, engulfing him. Before Robin could even think to swing again the Joker was back on his feet and his cold, boney fingers were wrapping themselves around Robin's wrist. Robin struggled, attempting to swing the crowbar again, to wrench his hand away, his only chance at freedom fading fast. He could feel Zatanna's eyes on them, watching, hope rising in her chest, just as Robin's was falling. With a chilling crack and an immeasurable amount of pain, Robin didn't even realize he was screaming at first, the crowbar had fallen to the floor and the back of his hand was resting against his forearm. Robin could feel the pain and see his hand bent the wrong way, but somehow none of it seemed real. That in a moment, he would wake up in his bed at the manor, another nightmare added to his collection. The Joker shook his head, his tone full of false sincerity, "I didn't want to clip your wings little birdy, but you've forced my hand." The clown didn't even bother to re-bind Robin's broken wrist, he wasn't going anywhere. Neither of them were.  
Joker turned to Zatanna with a start, his face warped into a disturbing smile, as if he just remembered she was there. "Oh don't worry my little magician I haven't forgotten about you. You'll get your turn." A shiver worked its way down Robin's spine-the thought of Joker going anywhere near Zatanna almost distracted him from the pain...almost. The clown made his way over to her, making little 'tisk, tisk' noises with his tongue, "Really this won't due at all...you're still breathing." FWACK! The Joker raised his arm and backhanded Zatanna, cracking open the still forming scab on her split lip. Blood spilled over dry lips, and down her pale chin, covered in bruises. Again his laughter echoed in the warehouse. Joker picked up the crowbar that had fallen to the floor; Robin's blood, now dried, had turned a brownish copper color. A tell tale sign of how long they had been in the warehouse. Of how, with each minute passing, a rescue seemed more and more unlikely, and the outside world seemed so far away, like a distant memory or a dream, instead of a lifetime. Over and over again the crowbar made contact with Zatanna's body, her torso, her head, her legs, and each time she screamed out, only to have it stifled by the silver tape. tears spilled out from her swollen eyes, no longer able to put up that brave, determined face that Robin could always see right through. Even though Robin's eyes had swollen almost completely shut he could hear every scream, feel every blow, and see every new bruise as it formed on her swelling skin. If Robin thought he could barely recognize Zatanna earlier, she was a complete stranger now. She barely looked human, her face was so damaged and warped. She coughed into the tape binding her mouth, blood trickled down through the edge before she made a strange noise and attempted to swallow the blood back down into her broken body. From the sound of the cough-and Robin hated himself for knowing this-she had a collapsed lung. She wouldn't make it much longer. Robin hated himself even more when he slumped, straining against the bindings at his ankles and good hand, and looked away. Closing his eyes as the Joker once again produced a knife. This time Zatanna didn't scream. Robin decided he liked it better when she did, it reassured him that she was still fighting, that she was going to be ok. The clown laughed again and Robin could feel him move closer. "What's a matter Bird Boy?" Robin could feel the Jokers breath on his tattered flesh. Robin pressed his eyes together, tighter, tears spilling over the brims of his cheeks. They felt hot and stung every cut on his face. Joker grabbed him around the shoulder, "Think of it like this; I showed you what the world is really like, you and Bats" the clown paused and shook his head, "I showed you how fragile life is. How with some knives, a baseball bat, a crowbar and some rope everything you love-everything you fight for, can be taken from you."  
"...still wouldn't change a thing," Robin opened his eyes and slurred, each movement of his tongue another losing battle. "Do whatever you want to me...to us, but you'll never make me believe that the world is a lost cause. That every day isn't worth fighting for." a weak and broken half smile found its way to Robin's lips. "You still lose." The clowns joking demeanor fell, giving way to fury, rage, and savagery Robin had never known before. With a swift movement of his upper body the Joker braced one hand against Robin's back, grasped his bicep with the other and pulled. A strange 'pop' reverberated throughout the room, as Robin screamed. His shoulder had been dislocated. "We'll see, who's the loser when I bleed your pretty girlfriend dry," cam the clowns reply, low and menacing. He crossed the floor, pausing to pick up his knife. Pain burned like white hot fire, consuming all of him. Robin could no longer tell where or which injury it came from, torment filled his every thought. He looked up to find the Joker towering over Zatanna, she didn't even acknowledge him. Eyes half open, her head rolled to one side, no longer possessing the strength to hold it up. Robin wondered how much longer she would last-how much longer they would last. When the Joker would get tired of the game he created and simply kill them. His answer came when the Joker laughed, before impaling Zatanna with the blade. Robin could do nothing but watch as the knife made its way from her navel to directly under her chest, flaying her open. Zatanna's blue eyes rolled back into her head, and she made a strange gurgling sound. The taste of bile stung his throat a moment before he retched, spilling his stomach's contents on the floor. Robin's breath hitched as a dry sob wracked his body, he couldn't breathe-their situation painfully real. He could smell her blood in the air, mixed with his vomit, the scent drowning him. Robin's eyes burned with tears, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat again, making him gag.  
"Let's put a smile on that face!"  
Robin spotted his purple dress shoes a moment before the clown grasped his face in his calloused hand, wet with Zatanna's blood. Robin could feel the blood on his face; hot, wet, and sticky, he resisted the urge to vomit. The Joker brought the knife to Robin's face once more, he could see the streams of fresh scarlet blending with dried, coppery flakes on the blade. With one hand the clown held Robin's head in place, prying open his mouth. A metallic taste filled Robin's mouth as the blood, old and new, mixed on his tongue. The Joker moved the blade to the corner of Robin's mouth. "Don't frown little bird," he said, "not when there's so much to smile about." With that the clown yanked the blade up, tearing through the sensitive skin and muscles of Robin's cheek and mouth. He did the same to the other side as tears spilled down, stinging his shredded skin. Robin's face twisting into a deformed, demented smile. He could taste his own tears, as they joined the blood in his mouth. Robin's mouth produced a foreign noise, halfway between a cry being swallowed, and an inhale. The Joker laughed.  
Robin's mouth flapped uselessly as he attempted to make words, to push through the agony that filled his broken body and say something, anything to her. With disgust Robin watched Zatanna's chest rise and fall sporadically, bones and organs peeking out of the gash the Joker had made. Robin twisted in his seat, causing it to fall. He screamed, the unfamiliar sound filling his ears, and stirring his flayed cheeks, as he landed on his dislocated shoulder. The warehouse floor was cold and unforgiving. The Joker loomed over him, "Batman's not coming," he sneered, "At least not in time to save you." Robin knew it was coming, he heard the hidden blade creep out of the clowns shoe and click into place just under his toe. Robin saw it all as if in slow motion, the Joker's leg moved back, and light reflected off the silver blade before it was buried in Robin's stomach. Again and again the blade came, the sharp pain slowly ebbing away each time. The darkness was starting to form around the edges of his vision, when the pain stopped completely. Nothing hurt anymore, loud muffled sounds filled Robin's ears, but he couldn't tell what they were, he didn't really care. He just wanted to sleep, to be done with this place, to see his parents, and Zatanna; her chest had stops expanding and contracting about 10 kicks ago.  
Suddenly Robin was being lifted, although he couldn't remember being freed from the chair. Zatanna's limp frame left his fleeting sight, and a familiar one filled the void, "B-Bruce," Robin forced himself to say, his tongue heavy in his mouth. "I'm here, Dick, I'm here. Everything's going to be alright," Bruce answered, his voice thick with tears. Robin stretched his tattered lips into a smile as the darkness engulfed him, pulling him, down, down, down, until nothing was left. 


End file.
